


Got You Fussing, Got You Worried

by RobinsonsWereHere



Series: I Think We Could Do It If We Tried [1]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Feels, Fluff, Getting Together, Lesbians, Mentions of homophobia, Romance, first aid as romance, post-episode: s08e01 2018 christmas special
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: The day after their first kiss, Trixie doesn’t see Valerie from just after breakfast until after dinner.It's quite inconvenient; they really do need to talk about this... whatever it is between them. And the more time they spend apart, the more time she has to worry.Meanwhile, Valerie isn't too calm herself. She'd initiated the kiss, after all. Had she misunderstood? What if she's ruined everything?They really just need a chance to sit down and talk...
Relationships: Valerie Dyer/Trixie Franklin
Series: I Think We Could Do It If We Tried [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980610
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Got You Fussing, Got You Worried

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I am in fact getting back into Call the Midwife. It happens every few months, I guess. I have suddenly developed a strong love for writing Trixie/Val fics and I regret nothing. If you're interested in reading the first kiss, it's a drabble on my tumblr here: https://nurseherewards.tumblr.com/post/632445368408440834/dirty-secret . If not, just know that this is set right after the s8 xmas special.

The day after their first kiss, Trixie doesn’t see Valerie from just after breakfast until after dinner.

In the morning, they wake slowly, warm in each other’s arms. Trixie feels a blush and a smile spread over her face at the same time.

Valerie is staring at her like she’s something to be revered. One hand reaches up to brush away a curl that’s escaped Trixie’s rollers. Trixie is unsure what to say, and the slight pull of the plastic in her hair gives her an excuse.

“I suppose we ought to get ready like normal,” she says softly.

“I don’t think anything will ever feel normal again,” Valerie retorts. Her own smile is wide and happy.

Trixie resists the urge to kiss the brunette on the cheek; whatever they have feels too new and tentative for such casual affection as that. “Well, I still have to do my hair.”

They make it down to breakfast around the same time, trying to stay some distance apart, even though Trixie feels an almost magnetic pull towards Val. The only one who comments is Phyllis, with a raised eyebrow and a piercing gaze.

“Sleep well?”

Trixie is working at the maternity home today, while Val is on district rotation, and second on the call board. They’re apart all day, but Trixie finds herself distracted, dropping instruments and mixing up pages in a file, to Ms. Higgins’ chagrin. When Shelagh asks her about it, she brushes it off on being fresh off her vacation.

She has lunch with the Turners, not bothering to go back to Nonnatus House, and when she finally gets back for dinner, she’s informed that Valerie is with a laboring mother. There’s a stab of disappointment at that, but Trixie knows they couldn’t exactly have had this conversation over a group meal.

Finally, when the nuns are at compline and Trixie, Lucille, and Phyllis are lounging in the living room, Valerie comes stumbling through the door. She holds her delivery case, open and jumbled, and there’s a tear in her stockings and a gash in her knee. Trixie nearly leaps to her feet. “Valerie! What happened?”

“I took a tumble,” she answers nonchalantly. “The wheel of my bike found an uprooted cobblestone. Nothing to worry about.”

Phyllis joins Trixie in eyeing Valerie’s wound. “I’d get that cleaned up, if I were you.”

“Let me help you,” Trixie offers, jumping at the opportunity. “I’ll get your case sorted and grab some supplies. You meet me upstairs and take off those stockings; I might be able to rescue them later.”

Valerie opens her mouth as if to protest, then closes it quickly and nods. Trixie sets off for the clinic room, gathering some antiseptic and bandages. 

She’s been wanting to have a conversation of some sort all day, but now that the opportunity has arisen, her heart thuds rapidly in her chest. She barely pays any heed to reorganizing Valerie’s case.

Everything had changed, last night. And tonight will change it for good.

Is she ready?

\---

Valerie sits on her bed, her shoes, stockings, and sweater removed. She idly examines her scraped knee, and tries flexing her injured wrist a few times. Mostly, though, her thoughts are consumed by Trixie.

She hadn’t meant to kiss her the night before. Well, she had, by the time they were _that_ close, but when she’d wrapped her friend in her arms and sat them down on her bed, all she’d meant to offer was comfort.

 _Friend probably isn’t the right word anymore,_ Valerie muses. After all, she’s had more feelings than friendship towards Trixie for a long time now. It was all but impossible to meet the blonde and _not_ develop a crush. But for years, she hadn’t dared to do anything.

Maybe it was just how much she missed her after Trixie had been away for so long. Maybe it was the sweet scent of her shampoo, or the feeling of holding her warm body in her arms. But whatever the reason, Valerie had undeniably been the one to initiate the kiss. She couldn’t help herself, staring into Trixie’s bright blue eyes, their faces so close…

A knock at the door startles her from her memories. “Come in,” she manages, and the door swings open to reveal the very object of her thoughts.

“Just me,” Trixie says softly, a smile playing over her lips. “Oh, ouch, that knee looks painful.”

Valerie looks down at the scrape almost in surprise; she’d been so lost in thought that she’d forgotten her injury. “Oh, right. I suppose it does sting.”

“Well, this will sting as well,” Trixie says apologetically, holding up a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide dilute. “I’ll be fast.”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” Valerie quips, but she winces when Trixie begins to dab.

For a few long, silent minutes, Trixie focuses only on Valerie’s knee, pulling gravel from it and cleaning off the oozing blood. She seems unusually intent, the room devoid of the normal banter, which is often present even when one or both of them are working.

“Trix,” Valerie says, trying to be casual, “I could’ve cleaned my knee myself, y’know. Or we could’ve done this in the clinic room.”

“We can’t talk about… _everything_ in the clinic room,” Trixie replies nonchalantly. 

Valerie shifts back and forth, making the blonde look up at her with a severe look. “We’re not talking about anything here, either.”

“Sit still,” Trixie reprimands. She swabs the gash with peroxide again, and the longer she stays silent, the more Valerie worries.

“I’ve had one boyfriend, in my life, ever,” she blurts. She can’t help it; long silences make her uncomfortable.

Trixie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look up. “You don’t kiss like you’ve only had one.”

Valerie huffs through her nose. “Trixie, you can’t absolutely refuse to broach the subject and then just all of the sudden say things like _that.”_

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Trixie apologizes. She hurriedly patches gauze over Valerie’s now-clean knee. “I just-- I’m not good at this kind of thing. It’s a serious and important conversation and I tend to botch those.”

“Me, too,” Valerie comforts. She takes Trixie’s hand, intending to help her up, but forgets her injured wrist. As soon as the blonde pulls on it, she hisses in pain, and all but drops Trixie back on the floor.

“Sorry!” It’s Val’s turn to apologize now. “I forgot, I’m sorry--”

Trixie picks herself up, much more concerned with Valerie’s arm. “You didn’t tell me you hurt your wrist!”

“It’s just a sprain,” she protests, but Trixie has already fetched the gauze again. Valerie stops her by clasping her hands in both of hers. “Trixie. It won’t get much worse if you leave it for a few minutes. We really shouldn’t put this off.”

Trixie’s eyes flicker down to the floor, then briefly up to Valerie’s face, then settle on their joined hands. “You’re right. But please, let me wrap your wrist. If nothing else, I tend to be more relaxed when my hands are busy.”

Valerie nods, holding out her left wrist and sitting back on the bed. She takes a deep breath, her thoughts racing. “I’ve only had one boyfriend,” she says again, “and it was the high school sort of relationship, where you go on fun dates and he tries to get lucky but you’re not supposed to let him. He was nice, I suppose. A little egotistic. I couldn’t have cared less.”

“But you felt like you were supposed to care,” Trixie murmurs, a note of understanding in her voice.

“Exactly,” Valerie agrees. “It was-- it was worse than that, actually. Early on, when I was fourteen or so, there was… a girl. I haven’t kept up with her, not recently, but we were close back then. She was my first kiss… and the only one until last night that I enjoyed.”

Finished with the wrap, Trixie smiles, sitting hair-raisingly close to Valerie on the bed. “Thank you.” Her face falls for a moment. “Did… did someone find out?”

“Enough for there to be rumors,” Valerie says with a shrug. “And then my cousin Maureen, she’s a year older than me, she took me aside and told me I needed to find a nice boy to step out with, so I wouldn’t get a _reputation.”_ She falls silent. “I’m sure you can guess the rest. The war happened. I busied myself with other things. But I didn’t date any more men, and I could never quite see why loving girls was so wrong.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong,” Trixie muses. “I just think nobody else understands.”

Valerie nods, unconsciously leaning into Trixie. “People do tend to be scared of what they don’t understand.”

“So…” Trixie says, after a silence that’s more comfortable than the previous ones, “we’ve established that you’ve always liked girls. And I agree, of course. Men are simply unappealing; it’s rather disappointing that they’re the default.”

Valerie can’t help but snort at that. “So well said.”

“Now that that’s all clear…” Trixie turns to her with a raised eyebrow, but there’s real trepidation beyond her playful expression. “You’re attracted to girls… but are you attracted to me?”

“Of course,” Valerie answers instantly. She doesn’t even have to think about it. “I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be.”

Trixie blushes and giggles. “Thank you, sweetie.” She reaches out, tucking a loose curl behind Valerie’s ear. “There’s a lot to be said for you, too.”

They’re close again, unbearably close, just like last night. Valerie can’t suppress a smile, and tries to tease a bit. “Like what? Like you think I’m a good kisser?”

“Like, you’re absolutely gorgeous, and your smile lights up my day, and when you laugh I get butterflies in my stomach.” Trixie’s voice is soft and breathy now, and Valerie is feeling some butterflies herself. “And as for the kissing… well once is hardly enough to make an assessment.”

Valerie laughs at that. “You’re saying you’d let me kiss you again?”

“Let you?” Trixie smirks. “That’s putting it lightly.” And before Valerie can respond, she leans forward and seals her lips to hers.

Kissing back immediately, Valerie winds her fingers into Trixie’s hair, sure she’s ruining her updo. Her bandaged wrist has less flexibility, so she takes one of Trixie’s hands in hers.

The kiss goes on… and on… and on. The kiss the previous night had been shock and wonder and trepidation but this… this is so much more.

 _”Oh,_ Valerie says, when they finally separate. She can barely breathe, let alone keep her eyes open. _”Oh.”_

Trixie giggles softly. “I think I can easily say that you are a _very_ good kisser.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Val breathes.

Leaning even closer, Trixie kisses Valerie on the cheek and nestles in her arms. “Okay,” she says softly. “I think… I think we can do this.”

“It’ll be fun,” Valerie says, a lopsided grin on her face.

“Oh, yes,” Trixie agrees, “but… it will also be hard.”

“That, too.” Valerie kisses Trixie’s soft blonde hair, then looks down, looking her in the eye. “But we… we can do this, together.”

“I think so.” Trixie kisses her, then smile against her lips. “We can do anything together.”

Valerie pulls her close, relishing in the warmth of the embrace and the taste of Trixie’s lipstick.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Keep an eye out for more trixie/val fics in this series ;) Leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed, or find me on tumblr at bijulesspookyohara!


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